


Tomasu

by Gigi_Sinclair



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 05:52:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1593950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gigi_Sinclair/pseuds/Gigi_Sinclair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Tomasu": a Vulcan word meaning kinsman or family member. Set around episode 3.21, E[squared]. The appearance of the old Enterprise brings up more feelings in Lorian than he cares to admit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomasu

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted May, 2004. Originally archived at the Warp 5 Archive.

Lorian had never asked his mother how she felt about Captain Archer. He didn't know why. Archer had died when Lorian was twenty-one and still too caught up in himself to use that situation as an excuse to bring up the past, but there had been plenty of other opportunities over the last few decades.

Archer was remembered as a hero by the whole crew; they still celebrated his birthday, with a dinner and party and speeches from Karyn and Rick, in their role as Archer's descendants. Lorian disliked the Archer Day celebrations, they served only to remind him how much time had passed since Annika Archer had died, but one of them would have been an appropriate moment for him to broach the subject with his mother. But he never had, and now it was too late. The day they'd been waiting for had arrived.

"You must find Jonathan Archer."

Lorian knew that. He'd known it for years now.

Lorian also knew there was no way he could keep his crew from wanting to see the other "Enterprise" and its original crew for themselves, so he didn't even try. He was just as eager to visit the ship himself. Lorian couldn't remember ever seeing Malcolm Reed without the distinctive streaks of grey in his hair, or Hoshi without Todo or Yoshiko, and then, later, without at least one of her grandchildren in tow. Even Travis Mayweather looked different than he had when he'd taught Lorian to climb rocks on the small, uninhabited planet they visited for their annual shoreleave.

The man Lorian most wanted to see, though, was his father.

Out of loyalty to her grandmother Annika, and because she was a damn fine officer in her own right, Lorian brought Karyn Archer along when they first set foot on the old "Enterprise." It was much newer and shinier than the ship on which Lorian had spent his entire life, but it lacked the personal, home-like feeling of their "Enterprise." It was only natural, Lorian supposed. This wasn't a family ship, it was a vessel of war.

Lorian expected Archer to be skeptical of what they had to say, he wouldn't have been Captain Archer otherwise. But even as Lorian explained their existence to the clearly disbelieving captain, he wondered when Trip would appear. If Lorian knew his father, he wouldn't stay away for long.

***

 

By the time Lorian was ten years old, there were seven other children on "Enterprise." A school, run by Liz Cutler and Amanda Cole Phlox, had started up a few years earlier, but since he was four years older than his nearest peer Lorian had never attended. He was taught by all the adults on the ship. He had lessons in military history from Malcolm Reed, in physics from Jonathan Archer, in navigation from Travis Mayweather and in languages from Hoshi Sato.

The rest of his education came from his parents, including physical education. He was playing catch with his father in the shuttle bay one afternoon when Trip said, seemingly out of nowhere,

"You like ice cream, right, buddy?"

"Yes," Lorian agreed. He did, particularly the chocolate variety. "Can we get some?" T'Pol discouraged ice cream, except on special occasions.

Trip smiled. "Maybe later. You also like chocolate cake, right?"

Lorian nodded and lunged for the ball. He missed, and it clanked against the metal floor plating. Lorian bent and threw the baseball back to his father, who caught it neatly in his glove. One day, Lorian promised himself, he'd be as good as his dad. At everything.

"I like lots of things."

"Right," Trip nodded. "That's what I'm trying to say. Sometimes you feel like ice cream, and sometimes you feel like cake, right? It doesn't mean that one's better than the other, they're just different."

"Yes," Lorian agreed, hoping that would make Trip seem less uncomfortable. It didn't. Instead, Trip caught the ball, took off his glove, and sat on the high bench against the wall, motioning for Lorian to join him. Lorian did, hoisting himself onto the bench and swinging his feet.

"Lorian, I love your mom." Trip paused.

"She's like ice cream?" Lorian ventured. He'd learned about symbolism in Vulcan literature from his mother, and in Superman comic books from his father.

Trip laughed. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. And she loves me, too. But after two people have been together for a long time, sometimes they get kind of bored of each other. They, um, they want cake instead of ice cream. Do you...do you understand, buddy?"

"Yeah." Lorian knew he was smart, his parents told him so all the time. He understood perfectly, and he didn't want to. He scuffed the toes of his shoes on the floor, then wiped his nose on his sleeve, even though Mom hated it. "Who's the cake?"

"Jonathan."

"Oh." Lorian knew Trip was waiting for him to say something else. Lorian liked Jonathan well enough. He told Lorian stories about his own father, Henry Archer, and about Earth, and he let Lorian walk Porthos sometimes.

"Are you going to go live with him?" Jonathan's wife Acelia had left five years earlier, taking Shuttlepod One and leaving the infant Annika behind. Malcolm had been furious at the loss of the shuttlepod, but no one had been upset about Acelia. As T'Pol had told Trip when Lorian knew they thought he was asleep, "This is much less surprising than the lack of judgement the captain exhibited in marrying her."

"Not right away. There isn't a lot of room with Annika and Porthos. I'm going to move into Major Hayes's old quarters for a while."

Because Major Hayes had moved in with Malcolm. Malcolm had been almost giddy since, which surprised Lorian. Major Hayes didn't seem like he'd be a lot of fun live with, but then, neither did Malcolm. "This has nothing to do with you, Lorian. You can come and stay with me whenever you want, and we'll see each other all the time, OK? I love you." Trip put his arms around Lorian, and Lorian hugged him back tightly. It was a small ship. Lorian knew Trip wasn't going anywhere, but it still felt like he was leaving.

Trip ruffled Lorian's hair and drew back. "Want to go for that ice cream now?"

"OK." Lorian jumped off the bench and picked up his glove and ball. "When do you move?"

"I'm taking my stuff over tomorrow after my shift. Hey, maybe I'll take the baseball equipment, too. Your mom doesn't like it cluttering up the quarters. Then we could play it when we're together." Trip smiled, but he looked a little sad. In the mess hall, Lorian gave Trip the cherry Chef always put on top of his ice cream, but not even that seemed to cheer him up.

From a distance of a hundred and five years, maturity, and personal experience of marriage and fatherhood, Lorian could understand how difficult that decision had been for Trip. His parents very rarely fought in front of him, but given their personalities, Lorian had no doubt there had been many terse, logical and passionate arguments while he was otherwise occupied. His parents did love each other, but his mother was just as happy when she was alone, and his father was happier when he was with Jonathan. As an adult, Lorian could see that.

As a child, Lorian had spent at least three nights a week with his father, and often with Jonathan and Annika as well. His parents stayed friendly, they had to on a ship of that size. Lorian was reasonably happy, until an accident in Engineering changed everything.

***

 

Lorian had spent a lot of his adult life thinking about what he would say to his father if he had the chance to speak with him again. There was a lot Lorian wanted to know about his father that his mother couldn't tell him, and there was a lot Lorian wanted to share with Trip as well.

He wanted Trip to know about his wife Diandra Mayweather, and about their son Charlie. He wanted to tell Trip how, after Jonathan died, the captaincy of "Enterprise" had passed first to T'Pol and then to Lorian himself, and how Lorian tried to make Trip proud with every command decision he made.

He wanted Trip to know about Annika, too, Trip's surrogate daughter who'd spent thirty years as "Enterprise"'s first officer and as a single mother of three after her husband Nicholas Hess died in the line of duty. Lorian wanted to tell his father everything, and as soon as Trip stepped into the room, he knew he wasn't going to tell him anything, because he wasn't Trip.

"Lorian, this is Commander Tucker," Archer introduced them awkwardly. Lorian almost laughed at the look of disbelief on Tucker's face as he took in Lorian's ears. "You'll need to tell him what has to be done."

"Yes, sir." Lorian stood and politely extended a hand to the ridiculously young-looking man in front of him. "A pleasure to meet you, Commander Tucker."

Tucker blinked. "You, ah, you can probably call me Trip." Lorian smiled. He wasn't Lorian's father, but he was still Tucker.

"It's the strangest thing. I look at you, and I see my father. Right here, around the eyes."

Trip had said the same thing to Lorian, many times. It was one of the reasons why Lorian and Diandra had given Charlie the old family name when he was born. According to Malcolm, who had met Junior Tucker in Florida years earlier, Charlie looked even more like Trip's father than either Trip or Lorian did, despite his light brown skin and his slightly pointed ears.

"Now the ears," Tucker continued, "Those are your mother's." Lorian smiled, which seemed to surprise Tucker. "Wait a minute. You smiled."

"I wasn't raised with the same ambitions most Vulcans have," Lorian explained. His familial situation had been a little outside the Vulcan norm, too. "My human side has allowed me to find a balance between emotion and logic. I've even been known to tell a joke on occasion." Although generally not ones that other people found funny.

Lorian enjoyed working beside Tucker; it reminded him of the few times Trip had taken him into the engine room. He'd been too young to absorb most of what Trip tried to teach him, but he had enjoyed being with his father, sharing part of the world that excited Trip so much. When they were both grown up, Annika had told him she'd felt the same way when Jonathan let her sit on his lap in the captain's chair.

"I learned almost everything I know by studying your engineering logs," Lorian told Tucker, leaving out that it was Annika's mother-in-law, Lieutenant Hess, who had filled in the blanks after Trip was gone.

"Pretty dry reading," Tucker replied. "I hope I gave you some hands-on training as well."

Lorian paused. They'd all known this "Enterprise" crew would be as curious about their descendants as Lorian's crew was about their ancestors, but Lorian didn't think it was wise to spell out all the details of their future lives. If this didn't work, this crew would be living those lives, and Lorian didn't know if it was right to spoil the surprises. But he couldn't lie to his own father, even if he wasn't his father yet.

Lorian had known time travel was complicated, he'd just never known to what extent.

"I'm sure you would have. We should re-initialize the start-up routine before going to warp six." Lorian hoped Tucker would leave it at that, but of course he didn't.

"There's something you're not telling me."

Where, Lorian thought, do you want me to begin? "You died. When I was fourteen."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure we should be discussing the future." And Lorian didn't want to delve into the past, not into that painful memory.

Tucker hesitated. "It can't have been easy, growing up without the old man around. I'm sorry I wasn't there." He sounded so apologetic over something that wasn't his fault, that wasn't even him, Lorian felt a surge of sympathy.

"You were a good father." It was the truth. Lorian had loved him very much. He just hadn't realized how much until Trip wasn't around anymore.

***

Lorian was staying with his mother the night it happened. He spent the afternoon working on the paper about Horatio Nelson he'd researched for Malcolm, then he picked Annika up from school. She was being particularly annoying that day, Lorian remembered, but Annika had spent most of her childhood being annoying. She followed Lorian around when he least needed it, she reported everything he did back to their fathers, and when Lorian complained, all Trip would say was, "A little sister's the greatest gift in the world, buddy. Appreciate her while you can."

Annika was ten years old by that time and perfectly capable of looking after herself, but Trip had asked Lorian to take care of her when he and Jonathan weren't home. So, knowing both Jonathan and Trip were on the delta shift, Lorian took Annika for dinner in the mess hall, stoically ignored her when she whined about not wanting to eat her peas (as if Lorian gave an Xindi's dorsal fin whether she ate them or not) and took her to movie night.

Once she got there, she wanted to sit with her friends, Diandra Mayweather and the older Phlox twins, so Lorian took advantage of the situation to duck out. He went back to his mother's quarters, fully planning to go back and get Annika when the movie finished, only to find T'Pol sitting on the couch beneath the Vulcan tapestry.

"Hello, Mom. I thought you were on the gamma shift." Lorian tried to sound calm. In all likelihood, she didn't know he was supposed to be watching Annika. This situation could still be salvaged.

"Must you call me that? I've told you I detest nicknames." T'Pol snapped.

"Sorry, Mo...Mother." Lorian blinked.

Suddenly, T'Pol stood up and crossed the small quarters, pulling Lorian to her and squeezing hard. His father was by far the more demonstrative of his parents; Lorian couldn't remember the last time his mother had hugged him. This wasn't a hug, though. T'Pol clung to Lorian like he was the lone fixed object in a depressurized cargo bay. When Lorian squirmed in protest, T'Pol loosened her hold and looked down at him. "Lorian, your father is dead."

In later life, Lorian wondered if a euphemism mightn't have been appropriate, just this once. But that wasn't T'Pol's way. Lorian stared at her for a long moment, trying to understand. He was still struggling against what he thought the word meant and what it couldn't possibly mean in connection with his father, who was young and energetic and whom he'd had cornflakes and toast with at breakfast, when T'Pol continued, "There was an accident in engineering. Phlox tried his best, but nothing could be done."

"Where is Jonathan?"

T'Pol didn't show any emotion, but when had she ever? "I believe he is with your father's body."

"I have to get Annika." That was the first complete, coherent thought to come into Lorian's head, and he latched onto it. "I'm supposed to be watching her. Dad asked me to watch her."

T'Pol was briefly silent, then said the words that, five years later, she would repeat under depressingly similar circumstances. "I doubt the captain will return to his quarters tonight. You must bring the girl here."

"Here?" Annika never came to T'Pol's quarters.

"Trip considered her to be your sister," T'Pol said, like it was obvious. "I will care for her until Captain Archer is able to do so. It is my duty to your father. It is logical," she added, as if she was trying to convince herself of it.

At the time, Lorian had been too caught up in other feelings to think anything of this gesture, but looking back, it was a turning point in more ways than one, for both him and his mother. It was the first time T'Pol made a decision based on values that were more human than Vulcan. After all, pure logic would have said that the Phloxes, who already had seven children and were well experienced with caring for them, or Malcolm and Hayes, who lived just down the hall from Jonathan, would take Annika in until Jonathan was back.

***

"You took Archer to see her?"

"I was following orders, Lorian." Karyn Archer sounded taken aback that Lorian would even question her. "Your mother wanted to see Captain Archer, so I took him to her. I didn't think there was anything amiss..."

"Of course there wasn't." Lorian sighed. His mother was her own woman and always had been. If Karyn hadn't brought Archer to her, then T'Pol would have gone to Archer, Lorian knew that. "I just..." Just what? Wanted to be there? Not particularly. "Thanks, Karyn."

That was a dismissal, but Karyn chose to ignore it. Which was one of the problems of being related to your first officer, and just about everyone else under your command. "Are you OK, Lorian? It can't be easy for you, seeing them again. If you wanted to take some time..."

"I'm fine." Lorian said, firmly.

Karyn looked uncertain, but she left, and Lorian let himself into his mother's quarters.

"Lorian." T'Pol was in her usual place, at her desk by the window. "I hear you have spoken with Trip."

"I hear you've spoken with Jonathan."

"Yes. He looks just as I remembered him."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I believe you know very well." Another typically T'Pol response. Lorian was a hundred and fifteen years old. He thought he should know how to deal with his mother by now, but she annoyed him as much now as she ever had.

But if that was the way she wanted it, Lorian decided, then that was what she would get. Lorian came around so T'Pol had no choice but to face him and asked the question he'd avoided for over a century. "Do you resent him for taking Dad away from you?"

T'Pol didn't hesitate. She just raised an eyebrow. "Your father was not a possession. He went to Jonathan of his own free will."

"And you resented that."

"Not in the slightest. As you are aware, I maintained a solid friendship with Trip, which was all I ever wanted from him. Sexually and romantically, your father was much more compatible with Jonathan."

Lorian didn't want to think about sex, his father and Jonathan at the same time. He'd spent most of his life avoiding those very mental images. Instead, he concentrated on T'Pol. "How can you say that, Mother? He was your husband and he left you for another man. Not even you can tell me you weren't a little bit angry at Jonathan."

"I was not." T'Pol looked at him evenly. "But perhaps you were."

"That's ridiculous. Jonathan was a second father to me." Soon after Trip had moved out of their family quarters, Jonathan had even officially invited Lorian to dinner, all by himself, in the captain's mess. Over hamburgers and fries—Jonathan's version of ice cream and baseball—he had explained that he loved Trip and he wanted to be part of Trip's family.

"Then why," T'Pol asked, "Do you speak so rarely of him?"

"He's been dead nearly a hundred years, that's why."

T'Pol was unimpressed. "Trip has been dead even longer, yet you frequently mention him. The others never knew Jonathan, yet they celebrate Archer Day annually, and though you are captain, you do not participate."

"It makes me think of Annika," Lorian replied automatically, the standard response he gave when Karyn or Rick or someone asked him the same question. "She was my little sister. I miss her."

"Of course." T'Pol clearly didn't believe a word. "Although I do not recall you participating in the celebrations when Annika was alive."

"You're impossible, Mother." As he turned to leave, Lorian expected T'Pol to call some irritating maxim after him, but she was silent.

***

Trip's funeral was held in the cargo bay, the only room large enough to fit everyone but the two or three crewmembers who couldn't leave their posts, even briefly. Lorian had known his father had a lot of friends, but he hadn't expected this. Everywhere he turned, people were freely expressing their emotions. Even Malcolm's eyes were red, and Hayes had his hand on Malcolm's shoulder. For them, that was the equivalent of making out in public.

T'Pol, Annika and Lorian sat in the front row, Lorian at the end, which meant he was next to the casket. It was closed, and it didn't take much for Lorian to imagine it was just a box and that at any moment, Trip would come into the cargo bay and ask what was going on. But that was an illogical sentiment, and Lorian forced himself to put it aside.

In the three days since Trip had died, Lorian had only seen Jonathan once, briefly, when he came by T'Pol's quarters to talk to Annika. The captain looked worse than Lorian had ever seen him, and in the fourteen years Lorian had been around, the crew had been through a lot of difficult situations. There were dark circles beneath Jonathan's eyes and Hoshi hovered by his side, for once without a child or two hanging off her. Jonathan barely seemed to notice her. He barely, Lorian thought, seemed to notice anything.

Jonathan stood at the front of the room for what seemed like hours, but logically, Lorian knew to be only a minute or so. Lorian felt Annika slide her hand into his, but he didn't pull away like he normally did.

"Trip," Jonathan finally said, "Was a great man, a great engineer, a great father, and a great friend. He will be missed." Jonathan's voice cracked.

There was another long, awkward silence as Jonathan obviously tried to control his emotions. Trip had always told Lorian that emotions were a good thing, that expressing them was healthy and normal and something that should never make Lorian feel ashamed. Now, though, comparing the stoical T'Pol to the pain Lorian felt in his chest and the anguish evident on Jonathan's face, Lorian had to wonder who was better off.

Even as Lorian thought it, his mother stood and went to the captain's side. For a moment, Lorian wondered if she was going to do the unthinkable and hug him, but of course she didn't. Instead, she turned to face the crew and said, "Trip was a man with an inordinate fondness for enjoying himself. Were he able to express a preference, I believe he would wish us to remember him with humour rather than with sadness. I, for example, will choose to recall the moment he and Lieutenant Reed were transported back from the automated repair station at an unexpected moment, rematerializing on the bridge in front of my station. The look on Commander Tucker's face was not one I will forget."

Lorian had heard the story before, from Trip. He didn't think it was that great, but seemed to be the funniest thing the crew had heard in a long time. When the laughter had died down, Hoshi told a story Lorian hadn't heard, about some homemade liquor and a Fourth of July party at the Warp Five complex.

By the time the service was over, nearly all of the senior staff and many of the engineers had shared their memories of Trip. Malcolm even told a story about he and Trip getting mugged in a bar and ending up in their underwear in a basement. Annika laughed with the rest of the crew, although Lorian doubted she could understand the humour in the situation since it escaped even him, and Jonathan smiled. Lorian didn't know why. Nothing had changed; Trip was still dead. Lorian felt the way he had three days ago, like he'd fallen down the Jeffries tube again, only this time the pain was inside. Jonathan's eyes looked the same, but he was smiling and laughing and talking about camping in Australia.

It hurt even more when Lorian realized he couldn't ask his father to explain this subtlety of human emotion to him.

***

"You should have told me. My ship could be destroyed."

Lorian had expected Archer to be upset when he found out the details. For years, Archer had been that way, obsessed with having control over every aspect of "his" ship, "his" mission. It was only after Trip was dead that Jonathan let other people make real decisions and have real power.

"There's only a twenty-two percent chance of an overload."

"I'd call that a damn big risk." He put out his arm and grabbed Lorian, which, unlike the reaction, took Lorian by surprise. Archer had never touched him, for any reason.

Lorian shrugged him off, and Archer didn't persist. "There's no alternative. You'll be thrown into the path if you try to use the corridor."

"I've got two T'Pols who disagree with you." Archer's arrogant expression and the angry tone were new, as well. His mother's meddling, however, was all too familiar.

"The Kavalans will attack 'Enterprise' the moment it enters the nebula." Lorian spoke clearly and precisely, to make sure Archer understood. "If they damage your manifolds, the corridor will de-stabilize."

Archer wasn't interested. "It's our best option."

"You have to listen to me."

"It's my mission. My decision," Archer replied petulantly. _My father_ , Lorian added silently, and could have killed himself when he realized it.

So T'Pol had been right again. That did absolutely nothing to improve Lorian's mood.

"Saving Earth is my mission as much as yours."

"I didn't come over here for a debate." Which was fine, Lorian thought, since this childish refusal of Archer's to even contemplate options was nothing like debating. "I've already given the order. Trip's short-handed in Engineering. If you could spare a few people, he could get the work done faster."

Lorian forced himself to override his emotional impulse, which was to punch Archer out, and like a good Vulcan, channelled it into a polite response. "You're the captain." And, he added, in a less Vulcan-like sentiment, it's a damn good thing there's no one alive who remembers you as you really were. Archer Day celebrations would have taken on a distinctly different tone.

"You should never have spoken to Archer." Minutes later, Lorian strode into his mother's quarters to find her sitting serenely on her bed, waiting for him.

"He had a right to know the risks. Why didn't you tell him?" Of course. It was Lorian's fault the man was incompetent and irrational.

"If they use that corridor, their mission will fail. Earth will be destroyed."

T'Pol shook her head like she was disappointed, which was icing on the cake as far as Lorian was concerned. It got even better when she said, "You're allowing your human side to get the better of you." Which side is that, Mother? The one that wants this mission to succeed? Or the one that loved Trip enough to feel something towards the arrogant prick who'd taken him away? Of course, no Vulcan would stoop so low as to care about either one.

"You know nothing about being human."

T'Pol stood suddenly, steadying herself on Lorian's shoulder. Furious as he was, Lorian couldn't bring himself to move away, not even when she poked his chest for emphasis. "I know that for them, guilt can be a powerful motivator. Don't let it cloud your judgement."

Lorian looked at her evenly. He had nothing to feel guilty about. "Maybe you'd be a little more concerned if Vulcan was in danger, and not Earth." That was as good an exit line as any, so Lorian used it, feeling some satisfaction that T'Pol stared after him.

***

T'Pol never touched him if she could avoid it. For years, that had seemed normal to Lorian. During her brief time on the ship, Acelia hadn't taken much interest in Annika, either, and Lorian thought that was the way things worked. Mothers were for talking about philosophy and for reminding you to study your Vulcan verb conjugations; fathers were for playing baseball and telling ghost stories under a blanket tent and hugging you when you watched a scary movie and making you laugh when you fell down a Jeffries tube and Phlox was stitching you up. It seemed logical to Lorian, until he was six years old and Amanda Cole, who had never struck Lorian as a particularly emotional person, had her first set of twins.

Trip took him to see the babies. Later, Lorian learned Trip and Amanda had had a brief affair when they first entered the Expanse, but there was no tension between them. Amanda held the twins the entire time Trip and Lorian were there, smiling, laughing and cuddling them as Phlox beamed proudly, looking like there was nothing she'd rather be doing and nowhere she'd rather be.

To Lorian, this was a most unnatural way for a mother to behave. Fascinated, he decided to conduct an experiment. When he and his father got back to their quarters, Lorian went up to his mother, who was looking over a PADD at her desk, and put his arms around her. Immediately, T'Pol stiffened, patted Lorian quickly and awkwardly on the shoulder, and drew away, asking,

"Have you finished your report on Phlox's bat?"

"Yes, Mother." It was a confirmation of Lorian's hypothesis, but strangely, Lorian didn't feel validated by that.

Later, when Trip was putting him to bed, Lorian decided to mention it to him. "Why doesn't Mother love me the way Amanda loves her children?"

Trip paused briefly, then went back to folding Lorian's clothes. "Your mom loves you plenty."

"She doesn't show it."

"Well," Trip put the clothes on Lorian's shelf and picked up his pointy-eared teddy bear, a gift from Jonathan when Lorian was born. "Your mom's not real big on touching. Believe me, buddy, I know. But she loves you a lot." He passed the bear to Lorian, who lay back on his pillows. Trip pulled up the blanket and kissed Lorian on the forehead. "So don't worry, OK? You and I can do that other stuff all we want. It'll be our special thing."

And for four years, it was just that. As he got older, Lorian was less likely to admit it, but he liked having a special way of communicating with his father. Even at ten years old Lorian would go to Trip for a comforting hug or a goodnight kiss. It hurt when Lorian went to Trip's new quarters and found him on the couch with Jonathan, kissing him with what even a twelve-year-old who had never seen it before knew was real love.

***

If he wanted to save the Earth, there was only one thing Lorian could do. As expected, this plan met with more than a little resistance from his senior staff.

Both Karyn and the head of security, Lieutenant Randy Weir, were openly against Lorian's plan to force Archer to act responsibly. Lorian wasn't surprised. It wasn't their fault. They'd been raised to worship Archer, but that didn't mean Lorian had to fall into the same trap.

"How are we supposed to reach Degra?" Weir pointed out. "We can't sustain warp six, our injectors are too old."

Randy Weir was one Phlox's little experiments, an attempt at diversifying the gene pool. DNA samples had been taken from all of the original crewmembers who hadn't reproduced, and were preserved until they could be randomly combined and implanted into a donor egg.

Thirty-five years ago, Randy had been born using this technique, raised by Leoni Weir, and no one was supposed to know who his biological parents were. From his looks, his career orientation, and his attitude, though, it was fairly easy for Lorian to deduce who the DNA donors had been. Lorian only wished he had time to show Malcolm and Hayes their son. That would have been a moment worth savouring, but they all had to make sacrifices.

"We're going to use the injectors from Archer's ship."

"Do you expect him to simply give them to us?" Karyn all but rolled her eyes.

"No."

"You're going to steal them?" She sounded, Lorian thought, exactly like Annika. She even continued in that same condescending, know-it-all tone. "Their warp drive will be disabled."

"My father's a resourceful engineer. He'll be able to fabricate new injectors." Lorian had no doubt about that. Trip could do anything.

"You're asking me to betray Jonathan Archer."

Yes, Lorian agreed silently, but he's not all he's cracked up to be. "I know this won't be easy, but we've had to make difficult choices before. Our parents and grandparents lived and died aboard this ship to ensure that someday we'd be able to stop the Xindi. This is our time. If Earth is going to survive, we have to act." Randy and Karyn exchanged looks, but they didn't argue any further.

Eric Kemper and Nathaniel Mayweather were two of Lorian's best engineers, and they knew how to work fast. Lorian brought them with him into Archer's engine room, leaving Weir and Sandra Money to do the sneakier part and reroute the plasma.

Lorian's plan had been for them to remove the warp injectors and get back to their own ship before any of Archer's crew knew what was happening. That went out the window when the door opened and Tucker came in.

"Hold your fire." Kemper was quick on the draw. He stunned Tucker's companion before Lorian could put out a hand and stop him.

As Tucker yelled, "What the hell are you doing?", Lorian's comm sounded and Weir informed him the flow had been diverted. Shit, Lorian thought, then briefly wondered what his mother would make of such a human epithet.

"Get back to the ship," he ordered Weir, then told Kemper and Mayweather to do the same.

"We won't be able to go to warp without those injectors," Tucker protested.

"Archer gave me no other option."

"Take some advice from your old man. You don't want to do this."

Lorian didn't. But he wasn't about to let Archer destroy their only chance of finishing what Lorian had promised Trip he would do. When Lorian said, "I'm sorry," he was sincere, and when he shot Tucker, he wished more than anything that it had been Archer instead.

They'd barely stepped back on the ship when Archer was hailing them. Lorian told Kyoko Sato to ignore the hail, and a moment later, the ship rocked.

"They're targeting our nacelles," Karyn told him.

"Go to warp."

"They've knocked out the starboard power coupling."

Lorian had expected nothing less. "Get us out of here, full impulse." He went over to Weir's station. "Return fire."

They were evenly matched opponents, and Lorian could imagine the other T'Pol making some dry quip along those lines. He braced himself against the helm as the ship shook again. "Bring us in low, beneath them." Lorian had spent his entire life on this ship. He knew where its weaknesses lay. "Target their hull plating relays."

"Sir," Weir, who was usually cooler than Lorian under pressure, sounded upset. "Our weapons are losing power. Archer's using the transporter. They've taken one of our EPS manifolds."

Lorian hadn't expected that.

"We're losing main power," Karyn put in, helpfully, as the lights cut out.

He could still do it. Part of him, the human part that always sounded a lot like his father, wanted to show Archer just what this "Enterprise" was capable of. A hundred and five years ago, Lorian had been a ten-year-old boy with no means of recourse when his father told him he loved Jonathan Archer. Now, though, the power was Lorian's, and Lorian would very much enjoy letting Archer know that.

But if he did, Lorian's logical, reasonable, Vulcan side continued, their mission would fail again. They needed Archer and his crew. Lorian had to choose which was more important, saving the world or getting personal revenge on Archer.

And revenge, Lorian realized, as he stared across the dimly lit bridge, was what it all came down to. T'Pol was right, he resented Jonathan Archer. The question, it seemed, was how much?

"This is Captain Archer." Archer's voice cut into Lorian's thoughts. "It looks like we've got some things that belong to each other." No, Lorian thought, you had someone that belonged to me. "Why don't we call a truce and return our respective property?"

Lorian turned to Weir and, ignoring the gnawing pain in his stomach, motioned for him to lock the remaining torpedo onto whatever would do the most damage.

Of course, Reed knew what Weir had done as soon as he did it. Damn shame they can't meet, Lorian thought. There was one father who'd be proud of his son.

"I know," Archer continued, "You've got your finger on the trigger. If you fire that torpedo, you're going to hurt a lot of people here." He paused. "Lorian. Answer me." You're not my father, Lorian replied silently, even as Karyn turned to him with a wide-eyed, imploring expression.

"We can't do this."

Lorian knew how difficult it must be for her, but she didn't know what he did. She couldn't. "There's too much at stake."

"These people are family." Lorian knew that. They'd raised him. But Archer had come between Lorian and the first person he'd loved, and when that person died, the rest of the crew gotten on with their lives. Lorian had never filled the hole Trip had left. Even T'Pol had never shown any interest in Lorian as anything other than someone to be moulded into a new Vulcan, which he could never be.

"I'm not going to let you kill them." Karyn stood. "Captain, it's over."

It wasn't, but looking at her, he knew exactly what she meant. It wasn't worth it. Logic dictated the mission was more important, and quickly, before those illogical thoughts could come back, Lorian ordered,

"Stand down weapons."

Annika and her descendants always had been the voice of reason. Lorian had sometimes thought she should have been T'Pol's daughter, but he wouldn't have wished that on anyone.

Lorian went over to his captain's chair, the place he'd felt most secure since he'd taken over the position, and, trying not to choke, said, "Tell Archer I want to talk."

***

Reed boarded the ship with two MACOs by his side. The MACOs drew their weapons while Reed strode up to Lorian and held out a pair of restraints.

Karyn opened her mouth like she was going to protest, but Lorian shook his head. He couldn't stop Randy Weir from jumping up and snapping, "That won't be necessary."

Reed glanced at Weir and Lorian could have sworn he did a double take, although he regained his professionalism nearly immediately. "I'll decide what's necessary."

"Sir..." Lorian knew Weir would do anything to protect his captain, including opening fire on the boarding party.

"Stand down, Lieutenant Weir," Lorian ordered. At least one of them should be able to get out of this without shooting his father.

Weir got what Lorian had always known as the "Hayes expression", the one that showed he was equally pissed off at Reed and at Lorian and was making an effort to restrain his contempt for both of them. Lorian ignored him, as he always did when he got that look, and held out his wrists to Reed.

Reed snapped the restraints on, but not too tightly, and Lorian knew that was as much as a reprieve as his family background was going to get him.

Lorian had seen the inside of their brig several times, under slightly different circumstances. The one on this "Enterprise" was in better shape, but if Lorian remembered his ship's history, they hadn't used it very much by this point.

Lorian had been there less than an hour when Archer showed up and immediately started berating him like, Lorian thought, Lorian was an attitudinal child again. Lorian reminded himself of the reason he was here, gritted his teeth, and endured.

"You were lucky," Archer snapped. "Phlox says injuries on both ships were minor." Good for Phlox. He'd managed to leave instructions behind to create Randy Weir, but he hadn't been able to help Trip when he'd needed it. "You almost crippled us. My mission would have been over."

"Your mission is over, Captain. You just won't accept it." Because Archer only accepted what he wanted, and he didn't rest until he got it. Which was admirable, in some ways, Lorian had to admit. Just not in any way he personally appreciated. "I took the only logical course of action."

"Attacking your ancestors doesn't sound very logical to me," Archer replied, apparently forgetting that a father didn't exactly qualify as an ancestor. Oration never had been the captain's strong point.

"You wouldn't understand. You can't." Thanks to Jonathan, Lorian knew all about Henry Archer. He'd been obsessed with the warp five engine to the exclusion of all else, including his family, but Jonathan's mother had more than made up for it. Lorian remembered hearing Jonathan talk nostalgically about her waiting for him when he got home from school, reading poetry and talking together over a pitcher of lemonade and a plate of cookies. Jonathan didn't know what it was like to have no one at all. He may not have had his own father, Lorian thought, but he'd sure had Lorian's.

After Trip was dead, Lorian spent much less time with Jonathan. Even Lorian had to admit that wasn't all Jonathan's fault. Lorian had done his part as well, withdrawing from everyone for nearly seven years, but when he was older, Lorian knew that if Jonathan had made an effort to stay close to him, to make him feel like he was still part of Jonathan's family even though Trip was gone, things might have been different.

But Jonathan didn't make an effort. He barely spoke to Lorian, even when they met in the hallways, and the dinner invitation that had come when Jonathan was starting his relationship with Trip was never repeated. It was Annika who finally sought Lorian out, coming up to him when he was doing homework in one of the observation lounges.

"Don't you like me any more, Lorian?" She blinked at him pathetically, then belied her actions by flopping down on the couch beside him. "I miss playing with you."

Lorian didn't look up from his PADD. "I'm fourteen, Annika. I don't play."

Annika considered this. "Then how come you always catch me in tag?" Lorian didn't answer her, but Annika persisted. "Do you miss your dad? Because I miss him, too. He used to tell me really funny stories. But it's like your mom said, it's better to be happy when you remember him. He was a happy person. I wish you'd be a happy person, too."

The concept of falsifying one's emotions to comfort another was a concept foreign to Vulcans, but Lorian understood it very well. He forced a slight smile. Annika grinned and threw her arms around his neck. Lorian hugged her back, but he still felt empty inside.

Not that he was about to explain that to Archer. Instead, Lorian told him a much more recent anecdote, about the time he'd encountered the probe and failed to destroy it. He mentioned the promise he'd made to Archer on his deathbed, leaving out that this was the first time in years he and his captain had spoken meaningfully to one another. Archer seemed sympathetic as he listened, even going so far to call it "our" mission in the end. Lorian didn't reply and, a moment later, Archer continued,

"I spoke with your first officer. Commander," he hesitated. "Archer. She was very eager to speak with me, actually." Lorian wasn't surprised. "She told me you're a great captain and I shouldn't hold this against you."

That was Karyn, and her father before her, and Annika before him. Loyal above all else. Lorian didn't know where that came from. It certainly hadn't been either of Annika's parents.

"Lieutenant Weir backed her completely. Very forcefully, in fact. I think his exact words were, 'if you lay a hand on the captain, I'll take more than your injectors, sir'"

Great. "He didn't mean it, Captain. He sometimes lets his emotions get the better of him."

Archer looked amused. "I know a few people like that, Captain. Your crew is very fond of you. You're clearly an admirable leader." He looked steadily at Lorian. "I would much rather work with you than against you."

Lorian had no desire to work with Archer, but a lot of people, including his father, had died for the mission. It would, he told himself, be illogical to let his personal feelings cloud his appreciation of that. However easy, and however satisfying, that clouding may be.

If he kept telling himself that, Lorian thought, at some point he might actually believe it.

"Yes, Captain."

"Good." Archer nodded briskly, then hesitated again. "Is it, ah, is it just me, or is Weir..." He stopped, but Lorian could fill in the rest of the sentence for himself.

"Yes, Captain."

"Oh." Archer's eyebrows furrowed as he considered that. "But he's also..."

"Yes," Lorian repeated. "Phlox was very concerned about genetic diversity."

Archer gave a non-committal grunt, which had been more or less Lorian's own reaction to Randy Weir.

The ready room on this "Enterprise" was very much like the one on Lorian's ship. T'Pol hadn't it changed it much when she inherited it from Archer, and Lorian had done even less. The only thing he'd added was another model "Enterprise", this one including their modifications, that had been made by Charlie when he was about eight.

Archer sat Lorian at the table and left the room. Lorian was waiting for him to come back when the door slid open and Tucker walked in. He stopped when he saw Lorian. Lorian stared back for a moment, then looked away. "The captain will return shortly."

"OK." Tucker hesitated, then grinned. "I should have known you'd be a hell-raiser."

Lorian felt himself blushing, and forced himself to regain his composure. "I am sorry I shot you."

Tucker shrugged. "I've had worse. Although not from my family, I'll give you that."

"I made an erroneous decision." Just as he had when he'd, briefly, valued personal revenge over the mission. That wasn't what Trip would have wanted.

Tucker looked at him for a moment, then said, "God, I wish my dad could have seen you. He'd be tickled pink."

Lorian knew it was unwise, but he said it anyway. There was only so much enforced logic a person could handle in a day. "My son resembled your father much more than I do."

"Your son?"

Lorian nodded. "Charlie."

"No kidding." Tucker grinned. "I guess I was gone long before he showed up, huh?" Lorian nodded. About fifteen years before. "Damn, I'm sorry about that. Though I guess you and your mom were glad to have the extra room. I don't know how you guys managed in those tiny quarters."

"You moved out when I was ten."

"What?" Tucker sat down across from Lorian, his PADDs clattering onto the table.

Well, Lorian thought, here was his chance. "You are Mother divorced. You moved in with Jonathan not long afterwards." Less than six months, despite what Trip had said about there not being enough room in Jonathan's quarters.

"Are you serious?" Lorian guessed this was a rhetorical question. "Damn," Tucker repeated. "And I was just getting my head around me and T'Pol." He blinked. "But I guess Jon kind of makes more sense." He looked up at Lorian, so much guilt on his face Lorian had to say,

"I still saw you very frequently." Tucker didn't seem any less devastated. "You stayed friendly with Mother."

"That's still got to be hard on a kid." Tucker's smile came back briefly. "Even a half-Vulcan one."

Lorian looked away, embarrassed. Still, this was his father he was talking to. "I was jealous," Lorian admitted, glad his mother wasn't around to hear it. It sounded strange, saying the words out loud. "But as I grew older, I appreciated the difficulty of your decision." He may have never forgiven Archer, but that wasn't Tucker's fault. "You were still a good father."

Tucker stood and collected his PADDs. "I always figured that was a two-way street." He grinned again. "Charlie, huh?"

Lorian nodded. "Charles Tucker Mayweather. Finest pilot we've ever had on board."

"That isn't too hard to believe."

The door slid open again, and Archer came in. "Ah, Trip. You've got the plans I asked for?"

"Yes, Captain." Trip looked at Archer for a long moment, so long that Archer glanced between Trip and Lorian.

"Am I missing something here?"

Tucker shook his head then, to Lorian's surprise, winked at him. "No, sir. Jon." Jon frowned, but Trip had already left, and Lorian wasn't about to explain it to him.

The plan was fairly simple, which was fine with Lorian. The more complicated things were, the greater the opportunities for mistakes. Not to mention that there was something satisfying, in a very illogical, human way, about using the Expanse itself to deceive the Kavalans. Lorian had lived with the anomalies his whole life. It seemed like justice to finally use them to his advantage.

T'Pol was waiting in the shuttle bay when Reed returned Lorian to his ship. This was unusual in itself. She rarely left her room these days, and Lorian had thought it unlikely she would ever speak to him again after the un-Vulcan-like attack on Archer's "Enterprise." Especially when T'Pol knew very well the real motivations behind that attack. Lorian didn't mind. It wasn't like they'd ever had a lot to talk about.

"Mother." Lorian nodded politely and moved to pass her.

She held out a hand. "If I may have a word, Lorian."

"I'm kind of busy right now, Mother."

"This will not take long. It is important."

Lorian glanced at Karyn, who looked back at him meaningfully. Clearly, she was on a roll today. "I'll be on the bridge momentarily, Commander." Karyn nodded, and Lorian turned back to T'Pol. "Yes?"

"If you will accompany me to my quarters." She turned and left before Lorian could reply.

"What you did was most illogical," she started, as soon as Lorian crossed the threshold.

Lorian sighed. "I don't have time for this."

"However," she continued, as if he hadn't spoken, "From your eagerness to return to the bridge, I assume you have succeeded in developing a plan with Captain Archer."

"Yes."

"That is good." Lorian felt an eyebrow rise of its own accord, and dragged it firmly down again as she went on, "You have never been a Vulcan, Lorian."

And just like that, she was back to normal. Lorian bristled. "I know."

"Nor did I wish you to be. Vulcans can be slow to adapt to change, and that has always been one of your greatest strengths." Lorian wondered if that was a compliment. "If it had not been, I would not have encouraged Trip to pursue his affair with Jonathan."

"What?"

T'Pol seemed unaffected by Lorian's surprise, but he would have been shocked if she had shown any emotion. "He began a sexual relationship with Jonathan shortly after the departure of Acelia. You were perhaps too young to remember that." Lorian remembered Malcolm having a very public fit about Acelia's theft of the shuttlepod, and Jonathan's refusal to track her down to reclaim it. Later, Lorian assumed Jonathan didn't want to see her again, under any circumstances, and was willing to sacrifice a shuttle to make sure he didn't have to. As an adult, Annika had felt the same way.

"But that was years before he left us."

T'Pol inclined her head. "Vulcan appetites in that regard are vastly inferior to those of humans. You likely experienced something similar with your wife." Diandra had always been much more interested in sex than Lorian was, but he was about to tell that to his mother. "It did not concern me that your father would seek sexual and emotional satisfaction elsewhere. But as you know, Trip's conscience was very strong. He did not feel it was appropriate to maintain our marriage and his relationship with Jonathan simultaneously, and informed me he intended to break things off with Jonathan."

T'Pol went over to her desk and opened a drawer. "I advised him to reconsider. His affair with Jonathan was something both had long desired, but Trip felt his duty to you was greater than his devotion to Jonathan." T'Pol held out a small metal frame, and Lorian looked at a picture of Trip, Jonathan and himself, aged about twelve, standing beside the warp coil. One of Trip's hands was on Lorian's shoulder, while the other rested on Jonathan's arm. "I told him you were mature enough to understand, and I was not mistaken."

Lorian didn't look up from the picture, where Trip's love for both Lorian and Jonathan was obvious on his face and in his body language. "Thank you, Mother."

"Which is why you are not Vulcan. You were able to put your father's happiness above your own convenience, even as a child. Such flexibility is a human trait. I am proud you possess it. As I am proud of you." She hesitated, then touched Lorian on the shoulder.

Lorian couldn't resist. Smiling, he pulled his mother into a hug. T'Pol endured for a moment before she stiffened and Lorian let her go. "I should get to the bridge." He paused. "Would you like to join us?"

She hesitated for a moment, as if she was considering it, but shook her head firmly. "I trust you to do what is best for the mission."

"Yes, Mother." He smiled, then, to show he had listened occasionally during her Vulcan lectures, "The good of the many outweighs the good of the few."

Both her eyebrows went up and her mouth opened and closed soundlessly before she recovered and replied, "Indeed."

Lorian had never asked his mother how she felt about Jonathan Archer, but, Lorian realized it didn't matter. His father had loved him, had loved both of them. And while that didn't mean Lorian was about to lead the ship-wide parade next Archer Day, it did mean he was pleased he'd decided to risk his own ship and his own crew to let Archer complete the mission Trip had wanted to see succeed.

It was, after all, both the logical and the human thing to do.


End file.
